


Summertime

by OTP_Malec_Shipper



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, M/M, Slight Dumbledore Bashing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-03-04 19:24:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13371492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OTP_Malec_Shipper/pseuds/OTP_Malec_Shipper
Summary: Sirius had always wanted a happy ending for them. For all of them.He was never getting that, he now knew.





	Summertime

**Author's Note:**

> This is set between Prisoner of Azkaban and Order of the Phoenix  
> 

‘I told him,’ Remus’s voice was tinged with disappointment. ‘And he didn’t even _listen,_ Sirius, I fucking -’

Sirius had known what was coming, but even that hadn’t stopped him from hoping.

He should have known better, really.

All he had wanted to do was keep his loved ones _safe;_ that was all he had wanted to do when he had first come to Hogwarts, and all he had wanted to do now, too.

He was as loyal as a bloody Hufflepuff.

He remembered that time when he had first met Remus; this vulnerable and precious boy who had kept catching Sirius’s eyes like no one else; he had never felt wanting to be someone’s someone - his parents’ influence, mainly - but he had felt it with such intensity at that moment; to be his friend, to be his _best_ friend, to be his so much more, to be his _everything._

He brought his friend closer and wrapped him around in a hug, hoping to delay the inevitable, hoping to comfort him as best as he could.

They fitted together perfectly.

Sirius hadn’t realised just how much he had missed this and wanted this until he was in Remus’s arms, the familiar yet unfamiliar embrace dragging him down and making him never want to let go. He realised, with a sort of distant shock, that this was the first time they had hugged, or even touched each other since the day it all went to hell.

He could feel the difference and the changes they had had, and Sirius was sure remus could feel them too.

Remus had gotten thinner, more haggard and he seemed as if he bore the entire world on his shoulders; his hugs, which had seemed calm and comforting then - and calm and comforting now - seemed to be filled with an added sense of awkwardness, almost as if he had never been hugged in the last ten years.

 _And he probably hadn’t,_ he thought, his heart aching with the guilt that he had left Remus to _this_ and even though he knew that he couldn’t have done anything to help him - he was in _jail,_ for fuck’s sake - that didn’t stop him from feeling the overwhelming guilt, because he _knew_ Remus, he knew that Remus wasn’t willing to share his emotions with anyone, he would rather close himself off than reveal himself to anyone. Sirius hugged him tighter, trying to nonverbally communicate that he was never going to go anywhere, not this time.

Remus was the one who finally pulled away from the hug, his face unusually flushed.

***

‘Harry?’

‘Dumbledore doesn’t want to,’ he said tiredly, and even though Sirius had expected it, had _known_ it, even, he couldn’t help but feel a hatred so intense that it left him breathless for a long moment. ‘I told him about the Dursleys; about how awful they were, about how they kept him locked up in a fucking **cupboard,** _and you know what he said, Sirius?_ He told me knew. That bastard didn’t even have the decency to say that he didn’t know what was happening, he just said that there were ‘important’  blood wards that were going to keep him safe but who the fuck cares about that? Lily and James bloody well didn’t want him there now, did they? -’

‘I can’t take this Moony,’ he said, standing up. ‘I’m going to go over there to the _Dursleys_ and taking him with me, screw Dumblefuck-’

‘You know you can’t, Sirius,’  Moony, in fact, appeared sadder than before, and all Sirius -the part of him that wasn’t panicking over Harry- wanted to do was to hold him close; to make all his worries disappear. ‘You know Dumbledore has all your houses under the Fidelius, right? And what are you going to do? Run away with him?’

‘Maybe your house -’

‘This is the first place they are going to search, and you know it, Sirius,’  Remus voice contained a hint of reproach, and also a terrible resignation that was much, much, worse.

‘I hate feeling helpless,’ Sirius said in a small voice.

‘Me too, Sirius. Me too.’

***

‘Another thng,’ Remus’s tone had a neutrality that he wasn’t used to; Remus certainly hadn’t been the most emotional or the dramatic one out of the four of them - that title belonged to Sirius, no matter how hard he protested against it - but some of his emotions leaked through however hard he tried to conceal them.

Maybe he had just forgotten how to spot them.

 _Fuck._ That hurt.

‘Dumbledore asked me to tell you that the ministery’s planning on _visiting_ my house tomorrow.

You’ll have to leave today.’

Nononononononononononononono -

(he had expected to spend so much more time with him, at least for _two more days  -_ at most for a lifetime - but things never worked out for him now, did they?)

He staggered out of the room, hoping his tears weren’t visible.

***

_‘We shouldn’t,’ he whispered against Sirius’s mouth. ‘It’s too soon-’_

_Sirius cut him off with a harsh kiss and Remus couldn’t help but moan against it, knowing it was a bad idea, yet wanting it anyway -_

_The look in Remus’s eyes was all the confirmation Sirius needed._

.

.

.

If you, being a curious onlooker, peeped through the window of the cottage that was one lonely landmark with fields for miles around, you could see directly into the owner’s bedroom.

There were two people lying on it that morning. Two men.

You would see them holding onto each other tightly as if their life depended on it, feeling a pang in your heart for whatever they have lying befire them, hoping that they had each other through that, at least. Hoping that they never part, but keep each other safe and sound, hoping that they’ll never let go of each other, never imagining that they’ll let go of each other, literally and figuratively.

Yet.

The black haired man breaks from the embrace, and it’s painful to watch; him slowly and rleuctantly edging out of the embrace and the brown haired man making a small sound of protest, arms raised as of trying to hold onto him -

You stagger back, realising how intruding you are being. You walk away with a new pang in your heart towards the people in that room; two strangers that he didn;t know hide or hare about.

You don’t see how the black haired man wipes his eyes, drops the man a kiss, whispering four quiet little words - _I love you, Moony -_ before grabbing his suitcase and disappearing.

(he leaves a note behind, too, but the brown haired man doesn’t see it because it had been blown under the bed by a strong wind, and he doesn't see it until three years later, too late for him to do anything but to weep under his grief, the sobs wracking his entire body.)

**Author's Note:**

> leave a comment or kudos they mean the world to me  
> You can follow me on Twitter - @kiyokograssi or on Tumblr - @otp-malec-shipper


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